


Hold Your Breath

by Tabithian



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU - Comicverse, Nightwing (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-22
Updated: 2012-10-22
Packaged: 2017-11-16 19:59:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/543280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabithian/pseuds/Tabithian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Who is he?” Dick asks, studying the subject of the photo in front of him with interest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold Your Breath

**Author's Note:**

> supercomicgirl asked for DickTim James Bond? 
> 
> (It's less James Bond and more generic secret agent AU? *hands*)

“Who is he?” Dick asks, studying the subject of the photo in front of him with interest.

Bruce sighs. “Dick.”

“Professional interest only, Bruce.” He does his best to look like the professional he occasionally claims to be, but from the pained look on Bruce's face he hasn't quite managed it. 

“The target's name is Timothy Jackson Drake. He prefers to go by Tim.” Bruce pauses, to make sure Dick's paying attention. “He's a LexCorp employee.”

 _LexCorp_.

“Yes,” Bruce says, amusement in his voice. “Mr. Drake seems to have stumbled on some interesting files recently.”

Dick's eyes narrow. “'Seems to have'?”

And that's Bruce's shark smile, the one that sends the rookie agents scurrying. 

“Mr. Drake isn't quite what he appears to be.”

Curiouser and curiouser. “You think he's an agent? For who?” Dick frowns. “Whom?”

Bruce gives him a look, unamused. “That's what you're going to find out,” Bruce says. “Alfred will have your equipment ready, and Barbara has the pertinent files waiting for you.”

Dick's eyes stray back to the photo. Young, early twenties. Startling blue eyes behind a pair of glasses sitting crooked on his face. Black hair long enough to be pulled back into a loose ponytail while he works on something just out of frame. 

_Very_ good looking. 

“What do you want me to do?” If Tim - _Drake_ is an enemy agent - 

“What needs to be done, Dick,” Bruce says, because they're not allowed the luxury of compassion, mercy in this line of work.

Dick nods, flipping the photo over. “Of course.”

********

“Oh my God,” Tim says, clutching the harddrive to his chest. “I thought you were supposed to be good at this!”

Dick glares. “Well excuse me for not being Superman!”

Tim just stares at him. “See,” he says, pointing at Dick. “When I agreed to this,” Tim waves a hand around them where LexCorp security guards are doing their best to kill them. “When I agreed to infiltrate LexCorp for the good of my country, I thought whoever they sent to retrieve me would get me out alive.” He laughs, dark and bitter. “Stupid me for trusting an alphabet agency, right?”

Better _and_ worse than Dick expected when Bruce assigned this mission to him. Tim is more than he seems, but not an enemy agent. No. Just a too smart for his own good kid who'd been recruited out of college for the kind of mission that's already killed more seasoned agents than Dick cares to thing about. People with training and backing Tim doesn't have.

The fact that Tim's succeeded where those other agents had failed, had found sensitive files that would ruin Lex Luthor, provide proof that would expose him as a criminal, a villain, speaks volumes. That Tim isn't a gibbering mess by this point says even more.

Dick grabs the collar of Tim's shirt and pulls him close. “We're not going to die here, Tim. Trust me.”

Tim looks at him helplessly. “If I didn't, I wouldn't have followed you this far,” he says.

There's nothing Dick can do but kiss him for that. “We're not going to die here,” he says again, low, fierce. Trying to will Tim to believe it.

“Okay,” Tim says. “Okay.”

********

“Professional interest?” Bruce asks, watching Alfred and Leslie fuss over Tim.

Dick nods, doing his best to present a professional air. “Completely.”

He smiles at Bruce's sigh, something like fondness in it. 

“Barbara wants to recruit him.”

Of course she does. Tim was able to hack into LexCorp's databases, something she's never had the chance to do. (Too dangerous, something about needing to be on-site to achieve it.)

“Do you think he'll agree?” Bruce sounds dubious. Like he doesn't think Tim will accept, will want to become one of them after the way he was horrendously mishandled by a certain government agency.

Dick looks at Tim, battered and bruised and wholly confused because there are people who are concerned about him as a person, not a potential asset. Remembers the reason why Tim had been in that situation in the first place, the reason Bruce had sent Dick after him. (Dick's looking forward to the meeting between Tim's former handlers and Bruce, oh yes he is.)

“I think you might be surprised, Bruce.” 

Dick certainly was.

********

“So,” Dick says, ever the suave secret agent. “How are your ribs?”

Tim looks at him. “Fine...”

“Good.”

“...Thank you?”

This went much more smoothly in his head. “Uh - “

“You still owe me dinner,” Tim blurts, picking at the bandage on his hand covering the burns. 

“I – what?” 

Tim drops his head, hair falling across his face. “Earlier. You promised me dinner.”

Dick feels the smile forming at that, memory surfacing. He had, after Tim had snippily informed him that it was customary for people to buy one another dinner if they were going to take their clothes off.

“Your shirt was on fire at the time,” Dick says, although it had been more like smoldering. 

“The whole building was on fire,” Tim says, tentative, as he looks up.

“Not my best idea, I admit.” More like one of his worst, but they’d gotten out of it alive and an intact harddrive, which had been the point. 

Tim laughs, finally meeting Dick's eyes. “So, dinner. You still owe me one.”

“Sounds like a date to me, Tim.”

A smile, something Dick's starting to realize is rare and precious when it comes to Tim. “I like the sound of that.”

So does Dick.


End file.
